


Fluff and Crafts

by MagicianAzFell



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Craft Store, Fluff, I wanted them in a craft store so I wrote it, Light Swearing, Other, ineffable husbands, the cottage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicianAzFell/pseuds/MagicianAzFell
Summary: Aziraphale gets wind of a new craft store opening up and wants Crowley to join him
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! First off, thank you so much for reading! This is a multi chapter work, obviously, and I am a terribly slow writer, so please bear with :)

Prrrrng, Prrrrng. The phone in the living room rang as Crowley’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils rapidly contracting from the stream of light that sliced through the bedroom and onto his face. He pulled the down comforter up over his head and rolled towards the middle of the bed away from the light.  
_Why hasn’t the Angel gotten the phone yet?_ Crowley maneuvered the comforter so only his nose could be seen amongst the sea of floral print as he and sniffed the air, anticipating the smell for Earl Grey and French roast, but was only greeted with the sweet smell of lavender and eucalyptus from the diffuser on the nightstand across from him. The phone continued to ring as he snaked his hand out from under his cocoon and felt an indent instead of his Angel in the plush mattress.  
“Bloody hell, I’m coming!” Crowley growled, his voice muffled by the mountain of down and fabric around him. He sighed, rolled to his stomach and pressed himself up, the comforter still blocking his vision.  
_I don’t know how I was talked out of an answering machine, but here we are_. Crowley pulled the comforter off of him and sat up on the edge of the bed, toes lightly touching the cool wood floor as he ran a hand over his face, then through his hair. With sleep still in his eyes, he rose to his feet and began to shuffle towards the door, grabbing his black velvet housecoat with 'AJC' embroidered over the left chest.  
The hallway was lined with framed pictures from over the 6000 years of their existence together. One in particular always caught Crowley’s eye in the morning; the photo of him and Azi at the Ritz the day after the end of the world. The frame was a beautiful brushed silver, with The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives engraved in script at the bottom. Crowley unconsciously brushed his fingers against it on his way to the living room as he came alongside Azi’s desk. He picked up the rotary phone and huffed, “This is Crowley.”  
“Crowley, I know it’s you, I’m the one who called,” Aziraphale said, exasperated. Crowley sighed into the phone and wiped his face again as Azi’s tone shifted, “Oh no, I’m so sorry, did I wake you? You usually wake about half past 9 and I didn't want to disturb you when I left early this morning.” Crowley glanced at the oak grandfather clock to the left of the desk, _10 already? Shit_  
“No Angel, it’s ok, I- I needed to get a few things done this morning anyway,” Crowley fibbed. He really had nothing planned besides his normal routine of watering his plants while blasting Queen on vinyl, but he didn't want to perturb his angel. He quickly added before Azi could question,“Where did you trot off to so early? Did the bakery on Cannon Street open earlier? You mentioned a new scone that you wanted to try. Cherry- cherry something?” He picked up the phone and laid it in his lap as he sprawled across the forest green love seat.  
“Ah, yes, cherry citrus with a honey glaze to be exact,’ Azi raved, “But no, that isn’t why I phoned you. There is a new craft shop opening just off Birch Street; ‘Michael’s’ is the name, if I remember correctly. I believe it is what everyone refers to as a ‘chain' type establishment. The kindest elderly gentleman told me about its opening a few days ago at the bookshop whilst I was searching for my wax stamp, and I would love for you to join me,” his tone dropped off, “but if you have a prior engagement, I understand.”  
Crowley was still processing the words that flew into his ear, his mind not fully awake yet, but he loved how enthusiastic Azi was, so he tried his best to keep up, “Uh- yeah, um- sure, crafts and the like. Honestly, it was nothing important. Just let me change and make a cup of coffee and I’ll meet you outside the bookshop at say, quarter to 11?” He sat up enough to take a quick glance at the remnants of coffee in the glass hexagon jar atop the oak cabinet and sighed, when Azi warmly replied, “Already done my dear, I’ll see you soon.” The line clicked as a steaming pot of French roast miraculously appeared on the counter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azi shifted in his seat and pulled out a piece of paper from his breast pocket; a soft smile spread across his face as he turned to Crowley and laid a reassuring hand on his thigh, “I’m just happy you agreed to join me! It’s going to be so lovely, we haven't had a proper date in a few weeks.”
> 
> Crowley picks Aziraphale up from the bookshop and they head to the store, but things go awry when a young woman needs their help.

The Bentley came to a screeching halt outside the bookshop at 11:05 (demons are notoriously late) as Crowley pushed up his sunglasses on his face. ‘Under Pressure’ played on the radio as he settled into his seat and glanced over at Azi turning the open sign around to, ‘Back in a Jiffy!’. He turned up the volume and began to tap on his legs in rhythm with the lyrics,“'Cause love's such an old fashioned wor-”

  
Aziraphale tapped on the glass and gestured to his ear, a look of discomfort on his face, as Crowley hurriedly turned down the volume. Azi opened the door and slid into his seat with a sigh.

“Angel, I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn't expect you to lock up so quickly,” Crowley apologized frantically, “We can listen to whatever you want on the way, uh, Charlie Parker? That’s bebop, right? Wait, you don't like bebop. But is Charlie Parker considered that? He mustn't, because you have him on vinyl.” He fumbled with the knobs on the radio, the channels switching between classic rock and classical. Shit. Shit. Shit. Azi looked on in concern as Crowley became increasingly frustrated, he gritted his teeth and smashed buttons until he gave the radio one more defeated whomp. He sunk down in his seat and murmured, “I’m sorry Angel. I was just trying to-”

“It’s alright my love,” Azi shifted in his seat and pulled out a piece of paper from his breast pocket; a soft smile spread across his face as he turned to Crowley and laid a reassuring hand on his thigh, “I’m just happy you agreed to join me! It’s going to be so lovely, we haven't had a proper date in a few weeks.” Azi patted his leg as Crowley blushed and gripped the bottom of the steering wheel. His knuckles turned white as he stammered, “Yes, well, um- we are having one now, so uh- where are we going?”  
Azi retracted his hand and gently unfolded the paper, “Looks like if we head due North we should see it on our right-,” he paused and turned the paper upside down, his brow furrowed, "or is that South and on our left?” Crowley sat up and chuckled as he threw the Bentley into gear, sending them speeding down the street as he weaved in and out of traffic.

“Crowley,” Azi gasped, clinging to the handle above him, “slow down for heaven’s sake! And how do you know where we’re going?” He frantically studied the paper and tried to read street names as they whizzed past them.

“Oh just _relax_ , don’t you trust me?” Crowley said, smirking. Azi pursed his lips and stared daggers at him.

“I have my doubts after you nearly discorporated the last time you drove this recklessly.” Azi retorted.

"Ahem, well, those were different circumstances,” Crowley said tilting his head, “maybe this will calm your nerves a bit.” He fished in the pocket of his black jeans and tossed his phone onto Azi’s lap, “I might have Googled the directions before I left the cottage.”

A puzzled look washed over Azi's face, but quickly resolved,“Oh- oh that was so thoughtful of you dear,” Azi cooed as he unlocked the phone and inspected the screen, “I’m so glad you’re privy to technology because I would certainly be lost without you.”

“Don’t mention it, Angel,” Crowley replied, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Say, speaking of technology, when are you going to let me tempt you into buying a mobile phone? You can go on my contract, won’t cost much- not like money is much of an issue though,” he chuckled. Azi let out a soft laugh, “You’re quite right dear, but I still don’t see the need for one. The phones at the cottage and bookshop are more than sufficient, and you know as well as I do that I don’t get out too much more than that; today being an exception,” he beamed, “because I’m with you.”

  
“Ah, um, fair point I guess. I just uh, worry about you needing to get a hold of me- or anyone if there’s an emergency. I wouldn’t trust borrowing a human’s phone. Well, not now anyway.”

  
“Why would you say that?” Azi questioned, obviously bothered.  
Crowley exhaled deeply, “Just a feeling of impending doom I guess. Hell, we averted the apocalypse, for now,” he swallowed, “and I just have a feeling my ex employer is trying to uh, stir something up- again." Azi raised a finger and opened his mouth to reply, but Crowley cut him off as they approached the shop, the street parking was completely full on both sides.

  
“Ah, blast it, has all of London come out to buy doilies? Right _now_?" Crowley huffed, and gestured generally. Cars angrily drove around them as he continued to drive slowly down the street.

  
Azi reached into the pocket of his waistcoat for his pocket watch and checked the time, “Well my love, it _is_ also about lunch time.” He laid a hand on his stomach, “I’m actually getting a little peckish now that I think about it. We can always pop over to that lovely little cafe just off Canary Street after we finish up. They have a chicken, basil, and spinach crepe I’ve been eager to- um-.” Azi trailed off and his smile suddenly vanished. He squinted and leaned forward in his seat to get a better look outside, even though he had perfect vision.

  
Crowley was still looking around for a place to park, and gave a half smile, “Of course, Angel, whatever you’d like. But we can’t do anything until we find a place to park.” When there was no response, Crowley turned to Azi, “Something wrong?” He tilted his head down and looked over his sunglasses, “Uh, what are you looking at exactly?”

  
“I- I’m not quite sure, pull over right up there,” Azi gestured to a small section of curb not nearly long enough for the Bentley, “It appears that a young woman is in distress- I think.”

  
“Well, we can’t just park on a double yellow Angel!” Crowley hissed, “I might be a demon, but-”

  
“Oh, _please_ ,” Azi fussed as he turned to Crowley, ”you’re the _last_ one I’d expect to be concerned about a citation,” his tone softened slightly, “I just want to make sure she’s safe, so please pull over.”

  
Crowley sighed, “Alright fine.’’ He pulled up to the curb and turned around to see the back quarter of the Bentley in the street, and murmured to himself, “I just hope no one hits us while you play knight in shining armor.” _Fuck did I just say that out loud?_ Azi whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes before turning his attention back to the situation outside. _I said that out loud_

  
Crowley ran a hand through his hair as he placed the car in park and looked through the windshield. He saw a young man and woman arguing on the sidewalk about 20 feet in front of them. “What do you think they’re going on about?”

  
Azi held a hand up and closed his eyes, “Give me a moment, I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.” Crowley let out a short laugh, “Kind of a waste of a miracle when you could just roll down the window a bit.”

  
Azi huffed, opened his eyes, and reached for the crank on the side of his door without looking at Crowley. It didn’t budge. He looked back, his face washed with displeasure.

  
“Oh, do- do you need my help?” Crowley teased, tickled at Azi’s slight irritation.

  
“I could use your assistance,” his voice lowered to almost a whisper, “if you don’t mind.”

  
“I think you forgot something at the end there Angel,” Crowley continued as he cupped his ear with his hand and leaned in slightly. Azi closed his eyes tightly and exhaled, “Please.”

  
“Why of _course_!” Crowley exclaimed. He snapped his fingers and the window rolled down. “You know, you catch more demons with honey than vinegar.” Crowley grinned. Azi chuckled and playfully rolled his eyes, “I believe that’s fly’s, dear. I don’t think demons enjoy honey, although I could be wrong. What would even attract one?” _A literal heaven-sent Angel who gave away his flaming sword to the first humans without a second thought_

  
“I, uh,” Crowley shifted in his seat, “we enjoy, um-” he trailed off and turned his attention to the man and woman outside. “Uh, look,” he redirected and pointed out the window, “looks like she’s crying now. Can you hear what they’re saying?” Azi’s focus quickly shifted to the young woman. He leaned his head a bit out the window just enough to listen a bit better without looking too obvious.

  
“It sounds like she’s trying to end their relationship, but he is not taking it well.” Azi lowered and shook his head, “Oh, dear.” Azi turned to Crowley, his eyes glassy, “We _must_ do something.” He said, his eyes met Crowley's for a moment. Crowley dropped his gaze, and Azi looked back out the windshield. _Oh, Angel._ Crowley looked up and started to extend his hand to Azi’s shoulder. Azi straightened up a bit in his seat and clasped his hands together.

  
“Ah, I know, some-,” Azi made circular motions with his hands, still looking outside, “some sort of diversion so she can get away from him.” He turned back to Crowley and looked down at his hand still hanging in the air. Azi smiled and took Crowley’s hand in both of his.

  
“I know you have already taken time out of your day to drive me here, but would- would you mind doing me _one_ more favor?” Azi gazed warmly at Crowley and brought their interwoven hands to his chest.

  
Silence hung in the air as Crowley’s eyes began to burn, and he did his best to sniff as quietly as possible.

  
“Angel,” Crowley croaked, “you don’t have to ask me for favors.” He laid his free hand on Azi’s cheek. “It’s us against the world, remember?”

  
Crowley replaced his hand that was in Azi’s with a handkerchief he materialized. A few tears rolled down Azi’s face.

  
“Thank you my love.” Azi blubbered as he blotted his eyes. A tender smile stretched across Crowley’s face, “Of course.” His attention was torn from Azi as the volume outside swelled. His smile turned sly.

  
“I think I have an idea.” Crowley said as he watched the young man remotely unlock his car that was across the street. He snapped his fingers and the man’s car alarm began to blare. Azi blew his nose and looked up, “What- what are you doing? What is that going to do?”

  
Crowley snickered, “You’ll see.” They watched as the man crossed the street to his car, leaving the woman on the sidewalk. “I would see to getting her out of here while he’s distracted.” Crowley directed to Azi.

  
“Oh, yes, wonderful idea,” Azi replied and cleared his throat. He hurriedly folded the handkerchief and adjusted his bowtie. He opened the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk as Crowley watched the man smash the buttons on his key fob. Azi approached the woman and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder; she immediately relaxed as he spoke to her. _Alright Angel, get her into a cab before he notices_

  
The man smacked his hands against the window of his car a few times before turning around to see Azi hail a cab; one of his arms around the woman. He yelled something at Azi, who then shot a look at Crowley. Just as the man attempted to cross the street, Crowley snapped his fingers again. The windshield wipers on his car started to rapidly move back and forth. The man turned around to the front of the vehicle when wiper fluid began to spray everywhere.

  
Crowley laughed hysterically while the man tried to stop the spray with his hands to no avail; the blue fluid saturated his white dress shirt. Azi opened the cab door for the woman and handed the driver some money.

  
The cab sped off as Azi took his seat in the Bentley again and shut the door. He looked through Crowley’s window to see the man soaked and fumbling for his phone.

  
“Crowley, what on Earth did you do?” Azi huffed. “We said _distract_ , not- not whatever _this_ is!”

  
Crowley struggled to respond between his laughter, “He- you should have seen his-” He braced himself against the steering wheel to catch his breath, “Ok- ok, I’m alright now. After what he put that young lady through, I thought this was tame.” Crowley took out his phone and started typing in a number.

  
“Now what are you doing? This isn’t helping us get a parking place any quicker,” Azi complained and looked at his pocket watch again, “if anything it’s delaying lunch by at least an hour, and you know how I get when I’m hungry Crowley.” Crowley chuckled and put the phone to his ear, “I think the kids call that, ‘hangry’. Have patience Ang- yes, hello? Hi, I’d like to report a parking infraction at Birch and Cannon. The gentleman’s vehicle is obstructing traffic and he also appears to be locked out of it. Yes, yes I’ll hold.” Crowley winked at Azi theatrically.

  
Azi rolled his eyes and whispered, “Why are you going to get this gentleman’s car towed? I know he was not acting appropriately, but this is a bit too far.”  
Crowley covered up the speaker and asked, “Would you rather walk a quarter mile from the next nearest parking spot, or slightly inconvenience a man who made a young woman cry _and_ be twenty yards from the shop?”

  
Crowley saw the wheels in Azi’s head turn, “Ok, fine,” Azi settled, “As long as the fine isn’t too hefty, we don’t need to add unnecessary financial woes.”

  
“That’s fair,” Crowley agreed, “I think you should see that the officer who shows up is in a good mood then.” Azi nodded his head as the woman came back on the line.

  
“Yes, I’m still here. Yes, yes, of course. Anthony J. Crowley. No, it’s just a ‘J’,” Crowley laughed, “Yes, I guess you could say they were a bit pretentious. You as well, bye.” Crowley raised up and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

  
“Well, now what?” Azi inquired. Crowley turned on the radio and began going through the channels until he settled on one.

  
The host's velvety voice seeped through the speakers, “Up next, a special request from Anthony. This is, ‘Star Eyes’ by the ‘Bird’ himself.” Azi laid a hand on his chest and blushed as Crowley laid back and reclined his seat.

  
“Now we relax and wait for our spot to become available,” Crowley said, “so in the meantime, why don’t you tell me a bit more about Charlie Parker? How’d he get that nickname anyway, ‘Bird’?”

  
Azi smiled from ear to ear and replied, “Well my love, that’s quite an interesting story. You see-” Crowley reached out his hand and interlaced his finger’s with Azi’s. He closed his eyes and listened to Azi’s voice that was beautifully accompanied by the tenor sax melody.


End file.
